Hey Macarena!
by ChevyWinchester
Summary: It's the early nineties and America has a new dance to show England. This is my first fic here on ! Rated T for suggestiveness but nothing really happens.


I got in the mood to write some USUK so I went to the unfilled requests on the USUK Kink Meme for ideas. I saw this and got a little idea so I thought I'd give it a shot. Not sure if I'll post it to the Meme, but I figured it couldn't hurt to write it.

**Hey! Macarena!**

England was ready for the '90s to be over. The decade was fine by itself but America's pop culture had exploded and the fashion! He still shook his head over some of the things he had seen people wearing during his current visit to the younger nation. Not that his own people weren't wearing their own atrocities…

He had for once acquiesced to America's request for him to stay at his house. In and of itself it was an enjoyable experience. While America did make hamburgers too often for the Englishman's liking, he did at least cook the meals, and clean up after himself.

England was currently enjoying an afternoon cup of tea, a good book, and an otherwise empty house. America had run off to go spend time with his citizens and England had opted out of joining him.

The front door slamming open heralded America's return a few hours later. This combined with the man's bellow of 'England!' signaled the end of England's peace.

"What is it, America?" England asked, replacing his bookmark and setting his novel to the side. _This should be interesting._

America ran into the living room and came to a sudden stop in front of his stereo. He quickly switched out the classical music England had been listening to with the CD he had been holding. He pressed play as he answered. "I just learned this great new dance! Want me to show you?"

England sighed. "Not really, America. I don't that's such a-what are you doing? Didn't you hear what I just said, you idiot?"

That got a bright smile sent his way. "Oh come on, England! Don't be such a buzz kill! You wanna dance with me!"

"No, I really don't think I-what the hell do you think you're doing now?"

America pulled England towards him and spun him around until his back was flush against America's chest. The younger nation took a firm hold of the older nation's hips and put his mouth against England's ear.

"I'm teaching you to dance, England. I think you'll like it." The words were breathy and highly improper for what America was saying but, damn if it didn't affect the British nation.

The song was a typical pop song of the decade in England's opinion, except that this song had a chorus in Spanish. The movement America was forcing his hips into was very distracting as well. How in the world did America expect him to learn some dance when his mind was currently heading down an entirely different path all together?

"Keep your hips moving like that, okay?"

England nodded vaguely. That would be no problem at all.

America dragged his hands up from England's hips, down his arms until he was able to grip the other man's hands. In time with the song, America moved England's right hand forward until it was straight out in front of him. After a few beats, he did the same with England's left hand. After another few beats, he moved England's right hand until it was behind his head, again doing the same with his left. A few beats later, England's right hand was placed on his right hip, the left hand moving to his left hip once again after another few beats. This time, America kept them there before forcing the other man's hips into an almost figure eight motion. That signaled the end of England's passive cooperation. The next time England's hands were both on his head, he forced them to hold America's head instead. He turned to put his lips at America's ear.

"I think there's something much better we could be doing right now. Don't you agree?"

The mischievous look that crossed the other's face, explained much about his enthusiasm for putting England into this ridiculous situation. Needless to say, America quite readily moved on from the latest fad to something he wanted to do for a long, long time. 

AN: Of course, we're stopping there because there's no way I'm going to be writing smut just yet. Not _quite_ ready for that step.


End file.
